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Mr. Keeler looked surprised; so did Billy's class-mates; so did all members of all the classes and the teachers. So did Billy himself. The drowsy hum of reciting voices died suddenly and a great stillness succeeded it. It seemed to Billy that he was standing alone on top of a flimsy scaffold, hundreds of feet in the air, waiting for Mr. Keeler, high executioner, to spring the trap-door that would launch him into oblivion. Captain Acton levelled his telescope. He did not need to long survey the figure of the woman who was standing near the tiller that was grasped by a man. The lenses brought her face close to him. "Oh, no, he didn't neither," laughed Billy. "He can't be that foolish.".
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Conrad
The Admiral just now happened to be at dinner. A shoulder of mutton and onion sauce with potatoes roasted with the shoulder and such other vegetables as the season yielded was a dish fit to set before a king, and the monarch who turned up his nose at such a dainty should be made to banquet on nothing but the fare they give kings upon the stage. Indeed, Sir William would tell his friends he knew for a fact that a shoulder of mutton was the favourite dish of His Royal Highness Prince William. If it was objected that the joint yielded more bone than meat he had his answer: "Thin God bless him," cried Harry. "Now grasp tight t' yer rabbit fut, an' we'll be afther goin' on our way t' tempt Satan, over beyant in the evil cedars." "Joe, I'm ashamed of you," chided the white-faced deacon. "Come along to my house, all of you, and I'll have wife make us a strong cup of tea." "There they be now," she said grimly. "The two worst boys in Scotia, Mrs. Wilson.".
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